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Focis
Focis is an elven malefactor, entrepreneur, and casual mercenary. He currently owns Silverleaf Industries, and, under a moniker of the same name, ties into the seedier side of Silvermoon City. Physical Description This particular recreational medicine supplier stands at a height much shorter than most of his kin. Standing at the ever imposing height of 5'4", Focis leans entirely towards the slender elegance of his people in physical attributes. Willowy, though not without a lean musculature, those regal features of his only boast conflict with the almost ever permanent frown etched upon his lips. He caters to the standard fel-fire eyes of the Sin'dorei, though on his brow bone is an inky design of a crow. It glimmers from time-to-time. His hair is almost simply silver in color, lending to the ethereal stereotype of his people. Personality Focis is a vulgar young man, and his honesty is impressive. It is easy to see an underlying hatred in the man as it compounds into his naturally aggressive, and even dismissive if at times apathetic, disposition. He is very much prone to conflict, and kindness from him is incredibly rare. That said, the man has a reputation for his cleverness, though it tends to be overshadowed by his hostile demeanor. Opposite to most Sin'dorei, Focis has an incredible distaste for his people and their form of government, even if he uses their own addictions to turn a profit. All that said, Focis actually is capable of affection, and is not shy about it, or his interest in those that manage to catch his eye in the more romantic, or lustful, light. He is even capable of being non-combative to people, as rare as it is. History Birth and Early Years The upstart was born under a different name into poverty two years before the Second War began, and was almost immediately homeless while in the care of his parents. His father and mother were addicts to different vices, the former a thistle addict while the latter was an alcoholic. By the time the Second War had come by, their little boy was in the world for three whole years, but they ultimately took their lives together in an attempt to find a better life in death. Their untimely suicide left him in the care of an orphanage that was, unfortunately, not quite what it seemed. The coming of the Second War brought out the true colors of the staff here as it led to the early labor of many children in this particular institute. They were auctioned off to the more criminal of tradesmen in an effort to support the military's harsh demand for supply. Focis, in particular, found an education through an alchemist by the name of Lethriel Ashen'te. Under his tutelage the boy was given introductions to literature, mathematics, botany, and alchemy. That and a crisp fear of men and the nobility. He spent his first three years with Lethriel locked away beneath the man's workshop simply as a force of labor. It was within the four corners of that basement that he got his first taste of both botany, and alchemy, and ultimately a taste for some of the tonic in an effort to keep himself from starving. When Lethriel discovered that some of his supply was being stolen, by one of his own tools at that, he flew into a rage and decided that if Focis were going to help himself, he might as well try it all. Inevitably, the boy became a subject of study after being forced to ingest various different ingredients, a good few of those dangerous, and tonics. Lethriel would make sure nothing was set to waste and recorded any side effect he could, even going as far to implement a few different methods of torture in a bid to test the increases of endurance to the body. Couple that with the fact that the only time Focis ever got the chance to leave was during the treks back into the warring countryside, where he would personally get a chance to see the fight against the Amani, Focis began to build a stark hatred in his heart for the elf and the rest who only ever looked on. He couldn't hate the Amani for hurting his kin as a result, not with the fresh abuse from his master constantly roaring in his mind, and he was partial to Silvermoon's downfall if it meant escape. Opportunities began to present themselves, however. With all the menial work being done by Focis, Lethriel decided it was time to give the boy a chance to be truly useful. It was that, or be rid of him. Child labor wasn't exactly legal, after all, but his saving grace was Focis' silence and his own personal influence with some of the nobility. Three years after the Second War, Focis began to join Lethriel in his meetings with clientele and suppliers alike. He learned that Lethriel's business was, at the forefront, another clinic; but, beneath that, it worked in direct tandem with the assassins playing through the politics of their people and provided a few services to the heirs of a few houses. It was profitable, and none of that was being seen by Focis. This ultimately led him to an ambitious plan to steal everything from his master, and take it over. Through the years of his people's policy of isolation, Focis had the chance to setup his position beneath his master almost perfectly. By the time he was fifteen, he was writing off orders for Lethriel's business, meeting with a few of his clients, and attuning some of their elixirs. He was rewarded with an insignia that signified his employ by his master and was finally given a measly salary that Focis didn't much care for. Everyone knew the boy worked as Lethriel's second hand now, and had been personally brought up by the man. Some nobles expected Focis to take up the mantle of Lethriel's business anyhow, which was just perfect. His mentor would never willingly let that happen, but wealth always seemed to get in the way of his awareness. With some connections and a few backdoor meetings, Focis made a deal with two assassins to help him take over the business in totality. Their pay was a small percentage of all future income and a steady supply of lethal poison. When Focis met with Lethriel in his office to discuss the dismantling of another up and coming producer of refined Blood Thistle, the assassins Focis had hired stepped from the shadows. Focis didn't let them simply kill him, however. Focis made sure to stuff the man full of his own product, just the same as Lethriel had done to him. His mentor passed away under the effects of a violent overdose, the two hired hands simply keeping him from leaving his chair the entire time until all was done. After a brief discussion about what he would do afterwards, Focis sent the two away to discard the body and began to work out letters to the more important figures connected to his now late master's business. In one night, Lethriel Ashen'te became an elusive enigma whose voice came through what people assumed to be his personal dog, Focis. The time afterwards was spent solidifying Lethriel's business and spreading out its branches through isolating profits from other small time dealers. Rather than get rid of them completely, Focis opted into cutting them into his clientele, and him into a larger portion of their return while establishing a more readily available line of dealer's across the noble and common social classes. The Third War and the First Death of Silverleaf By the time he was seventeen, Focis had long abandoned Lethriel's authority and adopted a new moniker of Silverleaf, the name of his brand. This name had grown quite a bit and was slowly a larger and larger contender to the greater players of Silvermoon's criminal underground. He had swallowed up more and more of the small time in an effort to branch out and consolidate profit, and by the time he was seventeen and the Third War was upon his people, Focis was seeing larger sums of wealth. Stronger connections to the nobility became inevitable and they became what he considered a necessary evil for his continued success. A reputation soon came with the Silverleaf moniker, the man behind it remarked to be a crude, if honest fellow. Apparently, had a habit of forcing his clients to dress, at the very least, neatly, and was entirely brutal to the outlying threats of his trade. Smaller business sank quickly under the economic leverage he held. On top of that, the youth always invested back into his business and lived a more minimalist lifestyle, especially as rumors of infected grains began to spread from Lordaeron. This allowed him to better reward those in his employ and aid his clients in their battles against addiction, which ironically, he stood firmly against. Whether it was just a tool to create a profitable cycle, or a true show of his distaste in regards to dependency was left to the other party. Soon enough, he too adopted the isolationist policy and began to personally visit more and more of his clients instead of relying on his newfound alliances he had built up within the business. Unfortunately, the sudden invasion of Arthas' and his Scourge laid his accomplishments to waste. The Silverleaf brand was destroyed. It was a huge blow to his pride, and Focis was propelled to an unfathomable disgust for both his people, and their undead enemies. The loss of his life's work led him to blame his people's policy of seclusion to be the ultimate folly, and the total reason for their near annihilation. It would be their just desert to perish against Arthas' army. Unfortunately, Focis was never a fighter and only eagerly awaited the destruction of himself and his people at Arthas' hands until an evacuation brought him to flee with an acquainted noble and their children. Being the small man that he was, he was to his own lack of amusement, mistaken for a child quite a few times by the rest. The departure from the capital and the sailing to Quel'Danas gave Focis enough time to calm down and linger on the gravity of the situation. Death was coming, and now that his initial anger had fallen away he truly wondered what would happen next. Much to his dismay, it wasn't long before his particular boat was assaulted by gargoyles and destroyed, drowning most of the survivors. The suffocating faces of the children stayed with him the entirety of his narrow escape, and the panic it instilled left him to rush the shore of the Isle with the remainder of the survivors. By the time he made it to safety, it was only him and one other person. A woman he did not know. He didn't bother to get her name either, instead isolating himself in his own hysteria as manic dread left him sobbing and laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. The two eventually took to hiding away in the wake of the final showdown between Arthas and the defenders of the Sunwell, the last thing they saw during the defilement of their people's power source was the form of a red dragon coasting through the sky. Overwhelmed by what he considered an insane set of dire circumstances, Focis fainted and escaped into slumber. Aftermath, and Rebuilding By the time he woke up, his body was back on the mainland and was suffering from the sudden effects of withdrawal, and powerful ones at that. He was apparently brought back by the same woman that managed to survive with him via a salvageable boat, Focis resolved to meet and thank her. He couldn't bring himself to do it, though. His mind was breaking apart in ways he thought he'd never experience again and he lost himself in the almost reckless pursuit of alchemy in attempts to stave his addiction through the magical properties some ingredients retained. It wasn't enough, and the only thing that saved him as he teetered on the edge of death and madness was the return of Rommath. Focis hesitated little in the vampyric nature of sating his addiction, and was ultimately left with the rest of his vices haunting him after using them to try and prolong his sanity. Now that he had a clearer mind he had an opportunity to try and move forward with his life. Unfortunately, the nineteen year old was still not a fighter, and while he blamed his people for their new lot in life, Focis was not going to sit around and do nothing about it. He had to reclaim his life, not his people's, yet the two seemed inexplicably inseparable for the moment, and to those ends he began to create more elixirs for the smaller military units of his people as they moved across Quel'Thalas in a bid to reclaim their lands. He also tried to salvage what he could of his life's work, but a large portion of the population was culled, and much of his properties were destroyed. Their world was changed, and it was time to start anew. For his people, it was the Horde, for him? It was a whole new world of tradesman and readily available criminals, all trying to find a new place in the ruined economy of their capital. He set to work as soon as he was capable, splitting poor profits and refurbishing his old buildings as workshops. The Silverleaf name revealed itself once more with a business called Recreational Consort. On the surface, it supplied meager liquors and smokes, but the underbelly of it was a different beast altogether. A whole crew of people working for coppers under Focis serviced the nearly insatiable hunger of his people. In the beginning they began crystallizing some products and imbuing them with magic cheaply. The crystal catalyst always left its consumers stuck in their own world while a spike of magic went wild in their body. His clients began calling it Crystal Crash due to the side effect of it leaving you incredibly drained and mad for more. Few people took it, and even fewer people lived with it. This was his race's new curse, and he would completely take advantage of it. It was here that Focis attention would remain, recreating his business and reweaving the web of contacts and various alliances within the city that ultimately tied to the Silverleaf brand once more over the years. He paid little attention to the outside world going forward, as his interest never strayed too far beyond what effect the various wars had on his trade. Whether it limited it, or ultimately, expanded on it with newer ingredients, Focis almost always took advantage of it. The Legion's Return The reemergence of the Legion ultimately led to the resurfacing of Silverleaf in a variety of forms. As the years passed by, the now thirty two year old had long since taken a step back from his own game after much polishing on the administration and logistics of it all, his businesses diminishing in size by a few pegs, but otherwise keeping in steady competition with the larger faces of Silvermoon's more illegal providers. He even built a parent company called Silverleaf Industries. When the Illidari came, Focis began to step out once more after mostly secluding himself in his own game of political charades with the seedier people of the city that he, ultimately, had little care for. The criminal underworld was growing stale in the city, less and less people revealing themselves for much more than the supply he boasted. Never one for romance in the first place, a change of pace ensued as Focis grew closer to a woman as enigmatic as her abrupt entrance in his life. It started with a shared cigar and grew into something much more profound for the man. It was a whole new introduction to the very side of life he never wanted to try to explore, but those sweet months led to a string of different events transpiring. With Focis embracing more of his empathetic side, he actually crippled his own business and ceased almost all widespread manufacturing of his particular brand of drugs. The surface of it all still existed with quality dark liquors and a variety of smokes still being imported and exported between various continents, fortunately. It continues to be one of his biggest sources of money and is taking strides to expand into raw materials as a source of trade now that access to a whole new set of lands has revealed itself, along with a whole new planet too. He still deals with his more illegal trade, but all of it is solely handled by himself as he once more adopts his old policy of meeting people personally and handling all transactions as such. He has even reestablished his principle of helping people kick addiction while managing a few funds supplied to carefully picked orphanages and clinics between the Eastern Kingdoms and Kalimdor. Despite these old and new policies being placed, Focis has begun pursuing more adventure, his new love sprouting a desire to learn new skills. Namely the Arcane magics and the martial skills the famous warrior monks utilize. His studies are still going and he is by no means a master, Focis is a quick study and has taken to a more mercenary career with his new companion. He has personally overseen a few of his business excursions to procure the raw materials from Argus, and The Broken Isles; just as well, he has traveled across the Outlands in an effort to secure an artifact or two. He instead picked up some skill in handling a goblin-fashioned revolver and creating a few more individual connections as both a merchant and a reliable, if green, mercenary. His counterpart only ever conflicted over the Void, and while at one point she had almost killed him while lost in the throes of her meditation, Focis never once minded it. Things were picking up for him, and were finally getting more interesting-- But, all good things come to an end, and this one in particular ended with the abrupt disappearance of his lover. He had no idea he could hurt so much from the absence of a single person, and his passion ultimately drew him to chase after her imagined tracks all across Azeroth. When he returned to Silvermoon City many months later an emotional wreck a friend he met early the following year, Amora'lei Ebondream, proved to be a surprising source of comfort. And while his own addiction to his tonics never subsided, a new one grew in the form of companionship. His desire to no longer be so alone led him to pursue the small widow for his own, and now that they are taking the first steps toward that, Focis is slowly moving on from the memory of his first lover. Silvermoon City's governing policies were never something the man agreed with. The system of noble houses and the authority of its leading powers were always cutthroat and closely aligned to a totalitarian dictatorship in Focis' eyes. It's controlling hold on the people left him with a burning desire to burn it all to the ground, and now there are rumblings of about a closer associate of his becoming a part of the very thing he despises, a Magistrix. Quotes Quotes are optional. You can delete this field or comment it out by putting around it. Trivia Trivia is optional. You can delete this field or comment it out by putting around it. External Links You should put a link to your wow armory page here along with other handy links people might be interested in. 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